


Snapshots

by SunnyCuppa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Ficlet, Photography, first time posting!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:23:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyCuppa/pseuds/SunnyCuppa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little domestic ficlet about what happens when Sherlock gets tired of John's hobby. This is my first time posting and I'm a bit scared, so any comments will be deeply appreciated. Thanks for reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots

John had a particular hobby that got on Sherlock's nerves, and it wasn't the need to put on his blog his romanticised version of their cases, it was photography. What Sherlock despised the most was John's ability to snap a picture at any given time, without permision, and preferably when he was at his worst. Because let's face it, Sherlock's vain, not that this is a big revelation, you can tell the man takes care of his image from his perfectly fitted suits, his crisp shirts and the willowing coat he never takes off. Which is way he hated the small collection of snapshots John had on his phone, which he had tried to delete on several ocassions to no avail, because John? He had the pictures sent to Lestrade's phone for safekeeping.

So when a polaroid of Sherlock in deep thought with the caption: “Prince of the palace” appeared at the fridge in 221B, Sherlock snapped:

-John! 

-Yes Sherlock? -answered John from his chair, where he was placidly reading.

-I wish you stopped taking pictures of me at the most inappropiate of times, specially if I'm in the middle of a case. You were perfectly aware of the amount of concentration this case required and the need I have for silence when I'm thinking, you could have disrupted my line of thought. 

-A polaroid camera is sort of noisy and you didn't even stirr when I took that one. I knew you were deep in you mind palace and I know how you get when you're there, most of the times you don't even notice when I tell you I'm leaving, so stop complaining, it didn't disturb your thinking process and it's a nice picture.

-I have a ridiculous expression on my face.

-You should look in the mirror more often.

-If you haven't noticed, I tend to close my eyes when I'm thinking.

-I'll film you then.

-Don't you dare.

John considered there wasn't anything left to say so he stood up, closed the novel and climbed the stairs to his room. Meanwhile Sherlock continued staring at the picture, he really had a stupid expression on his face, did he always looked like that when he was thinking? With the raised eyebrow, tight lips and tilted head. And anyway, when did John got a Polaroid camera?

John fished his camera stash out of the closet, thinking which one he should try next on Sherlock. He had such an interesting, and why not say it, beautiful face, and made the oddest and most amusing faces he had ever seen, which made him the perfect subject for this little “experiment”. Maybe it was payback for all the body parts on the fridge or the eyes on the kettle, but even if it wasn't it was fun enough, and Sherlock didn't seem really annoyed, no more than usual. He had a few cameras, besides his Nikon D60 there was the first one he got from his parents – an analogic compact Polaroid – the first one he bought for himself – an 18 pixels bridge Fujifilm – and the two he discovered while he snooped around his parent's things, a beautiful Olympus pen EE-3 and an impressive Dacora from the 60s, but in the end he decided to finnish the few pictures left on the Polaroid he had used to get the palace pic.

With that thought in mind he entered the living room to find Sherlock looking out the window, he looked lost in thought and the light casted a perfect shadow over his face and figure so, carefully, he tried to get his camera from where he had left it (besides Sherlock's music stand) to find it gone, when he turned around Sherlock was grinning and snapping what was possibly the dumbest picture of John ever taken. The resulting picture was on the fridge ten minutes later with the caption: “The game is on!”.

Two could play.

For the next few days hiding, finding, and snapping pictures of each other at their worst was the distraction Sherlock needed not to go into one of his between-cases sulks, so John “secretly” went to the shop to buy two more rolls and made sure the camera was ready at all times.

Ten days later the front of the fridge was covered in pictures of Sherlock drooling while sleeping, with his face and hair covered in goo from the last experiment, upside-down on the coach with a red face, being yelled at by Mrs. Hudson (the experiment didn't explode only on Sherlock), passed out face first on the kitchen table... and of John with a mouthful of toast and jam, screaming when the frying pan caught fire, slumped in his chair and glaring at Sherlock over his novel, brushing his teeth while half-sleep, hugging Lestrade when he dropped him after a night at the pub... And finally one of them both, taken by Mrs. Hudson from the doorway when the boys were called back at NSY for a double locked room murder. That last one had a caption that read: “Christmas at 221B”.


End file.
